Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

Dazzler of the Day: Jeremy Gloff

Fellow Madonna fans hold a special place in my heart, and when they are dazzling in their own right, that makes them all the more captivating. Case in point is our Dazzler of the Day, Jeremy Gloff, whose take on the Madonna Celebration Tour encapsulates what so many of her lifelong fans felt when seeing the show. This alone would merit a crowning as Dazzler – Gloff also has the multi-talented Renaissance-man act down pat, having paved his way as a singer, songwriter, performance artist and advice columnist. A long list of albums (from 1993’s True Stories’ to 2016’s ‘Those Who Survived’) testify to his legacy, including his electro-homage to the 80’s ~ ‘1987’. Most heartwarming is his recent look-back over his love affair with Madonna – a love-affair that Madonna fans should find resonant and affirming. Check it out below, then say hello to him on Instagram or FaceBook or YouTube.

It’s taken me two days to process and recover from the Madonna concert.
I have a heart that’s prone to melancholy and nostalgia and I found myself sad the morning of the show because it was so close to happening then being over. I felt like it might be one of the best nights of my life…and it was. The evening approached with equal anticipation and dread. To be in my Gloft in Tampa at a Madonna concert with so many of my best friends and loved ones is my happiest of happy places… (I rent out a private loft for concerts that fits 50 loved ones and it’s been dubbed “The Gloft”.)
During the beginning of the concert there was someone dressed on stage as Madonna’s younger self…Madonna said how much she wanted to give her younger self a hug and how that version of her kept her going all these years. And as Madonna played – so so many versions of my younger self unexpectedly reemerged that are all trapped in her songs. I found myself in a state of euphoria but also having to process and deal with these unexpected boxes and vaults being opened song after song. I found myself bursting with joy while at the same time unearthing some scars I’d long buried…
I bought a shitty $15 crown off Amazon and wore it to the show – but to me it felt like a million dollars. In the last few years I’ve found myself getting quieter, more submissive, more “professional”, more happy in solitude. That crappy junk crown unlocked a version of Jeremy I hadn’t felt or known for a very long time. But to truly hold onto him is like hugging the air. As the last song ended I sadly felt him leaving too…
To have Moira Messana stop by the loft and say hi and to graciously meet my friends – hers is a face I saw on a movie theatre screen in a small town over and over in 1991. I knew every word to her scene. When I left that movie theatre I was in a town full of violence and homophobia. It wasn’t a safe world for me at 16 years of age. Moira’s vulnerability and sincerity in ‘Truth Or Dare‘ made her a massive icon to everyone who shared that moment with me. Her lines in the movie became part of our everyday lives and with love.
Decades later she became a friend. I love Moira and her family – she’s such a remarkable, strong woman. Since we became friends we never really talk about Madonna when we hang out. But two nights ago Moira completely became THAT Moira and it was glorious and an explosion of unparalleled joy. My friends were shocked by the surprise. How does the best night ever keep leveling up???? Like Moira said in 1991…”I just wanna see Madonna!”
I haven’t felt as in sync with Madonna in the last few years. I didn’t relate as much to what she was doing for the first time in 40 years. In some ways I was lost without her…but then in other ways I found a new different way without her. To have the Madonna I love so much back and serving as an icon during this show was both exhilarating and unexpectedly confusing.
Because I still want to be Jeremy in 3rd grade 1984 hearing the word “virgin” for the first time, or the Jeremy in high school wearing a gold tooth like Madonna did in “Erotica“, or club kid Jeremy going to raves in the early 90s in Buffalo with pigtails and an Easter basket full of cereal to pass out to other ravers, or 2008 Jeremy releasing an electro album called ‘1987’ and thinking this would be the album to break through, or 2014 Jeremy sitting on the patio of Cappy’s with Lou hearing the leaked demos of “Rebel Heart” and feeling young for maybe the last time. They all disintegrate but they all remain.
Stupid me and my shadows – because although I was surrounded by so much love in my loft my heart was clouded by the friends sitting one section over who don’t talk to me anymore – and once upon a time they were my Madonna friends. I always extend olive branches but generally people don’t grab them and it adds a dark blue directly below my bright yellow. I hate losing friends. I sure wish the universe would extend me second chances but maybe the universe is protecting me too. They were keeping space in my mind the entire time – I wished they were there alongside me and not in the past tense. Nothing really matters – love is all we need.
So it was one of the best nights of my life and two of the saddest days after. I want to be in that moment forever – where I’m wearing a crown feeling free – surrounded by loved ones – and Madonna is reigning supreme again.
During these last few years me and a panel of people discussed each of her albums track by track on my podcast Phonogenics 101. And some of those people were in my Gloft – they flew into Tampa and I got to meet them for the first time in person and share this moment together. Things don’t get any more soul deep than this.
So here we are in April 2024. I love Madonna being front and center again with a tour that appeals to a wider audience. But with that comes all the more general fans complaining about the late start and the lack of A/C. Honey, we’ve been dealing with that for years and years with pleasure. Come join the party…it’s a celebration.
I hope Madonna knows how much she is loved. And I hope my friends know how much I love them. I had it all again for one night – two nights ago. But take a bow…the night is over.
Thank you Madonna for 40 years of safety and love.
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Our Easter Parade, A Week Late

Easter came early this year, and so our delayed posting schedule here means it’s going up here now. We spent our first Easter without Dad, in the last home in which he lived, and it was a good one. Mom put together a delicious meal, and Dad was present in his favorite lemon meringue pie – ideal for Easter. I made an extremely unpopular ambrosia (which I have come around to enjoying in spite of everyone else) and Andy brought an apple crumble, as favored by Noah. 

After our meal, we invited the twins for an impromptu sleepover during their spring vacation. At 14 years old, their interest in their old uncles wanes, but we still manage to have a good time. They are scheduled to join me for my office’s ‘Take Your Children to Work Day’ – their first time, and mine, to participate in such an event. They’re turning into young adults, and they make us proud every day.

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Cool Spring Night, Warm Glow Lamp

Apologies for the posting time of this one – it should only be read in the deep depths of night, when the house has gone quiet, when the family has gone to bed, and you sit alone, unable to sleep – maybe because it’s Saturday, maybe because there is something lodged in your mind, or maybe because you are simply too tired to sleep. That happens sometimes. You can push through the tired period when sleep would come easily if you just let it, but you don’t, thinking you might miss something, or pushing ahead to get one more thing done before the day ends. And then it’s too late – you’re up, you’re wired, and you cannot sleep no matter how tired you are. Tricky thing, the arrival and all-too-quick departure of your sleep window. These days I try to catch it by inviting it, welcoming it, and making the conditions hospitable to it. Such as with a song like this – a song that should only be heard late at night. Come revisit this post then. 

The steam of china tea
You could hear the woman sing
In the soft flames of spring
Spring has swept the scarlet side streets
Winds caress, undress, invite
Upstairs by a china lamp
They softly talk in the cool spring night

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#TinyThreads: An Insignificant Series

I believe in building children up… by breaking them down.

You know why.

#TinyThreads

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Spring Snows Sucks

This is too much. 

Where was this nonsense in January when we needed/wanted it?

This helps nothing.

All it does is delay outside work, wreak havoc with outdoor bulbs just coming into bloom, and fuck up drives and travel. I am so sick of it, especially after our last ordeal with an ice/snowstorm. 

This is bullshit.

Sometimes it helps just saying that out loud, getting all the ickiness and frustration out in a common curse word.

And sometimes it doesn’t help at all, because it’s still bullshit and just saying it doesn’t change that fact in the least.

Still, we try.

And still, this is fucking bullshit.

Andy was set to start pumping out the winter pool water and setting the stage for an early pool reveal. We have guests coming in a couple of weeks and wanted to start spring with their visit. This may delay the outside glory, and that does indeed suck. Memories of summer pool days go only so far when we are so close.

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#TinyThreads: An Insignificant Series

Curling back into the fetal position and staying in bed would have been the best option for the day, but that was not an option for me. 

PS – This weather is bullshit.

#TinyThreads

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The Go-To-Site for Gay Culture

Matthew Rettenmund has been featured here before, but it’s good to give people a reminder of those websites that continue to produce impeccable and substantial content, because I know how difficult that can be. Rettenmund has been sharing his witty take on the world since 2005, and continues to be an entertaining bright spot amid this online world of awfulness. Check out ‘Boy Culture’ here.

Boy Culture was born on November 6, 2005, out of a desire to say something mean about a pushy journalist its founder, editor and author Matthew Rettenmund, had encountered at a Blondie concert. Since then, Boy Culture has grown to become an influential blog covering celebrity, gay issues, music, film, theater, beautiful men, humor and politics.

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Dazzler of the Day: Ali Louis Bourzgui

Our Broadway run continues as this Dazzler of the Day just opened as the title character in the long-awaited revival of ‘The Who’s Tommy’. Having missed it on its first go-round in the mid-90’s, I’ll be seeing it next month on our return to Broadway trip. Ali Louis Bourzgui has been winning raves as Tommy, and comes with a resume chock-full of notable performances – see the exquisite excerpt from his website below for a better introduction:

I’m a SWANA (Moroccan American) actor, singer, musician and creator based in NYC. You can catch me as Tommy in Des McAnuff and Pete Townshend’s revival of The Who’s Tommy on Broadway (Jeff Award for Performer in a Leading Role for the Goodman Theatre run.) Recent work includes Paul in the Company 1st National Tour, Haled on The Band’s Visit National Tour and playing Young Mazin/Yousif in The Goodman’s World Premiere play, Layalina. You can also hear my voice on the Monkeypaw/Gimlet horror podcast Quiet Part Loud produced by Jordan Peele. Originally from Pittsfield, MA, I’ve always loved nature and every branch of art. When not performing you can usually find me hiking, gardening, geeking out over jazz, playing guitar and writing music. I graduated from the Ithaca College B.F.A. Musical Theatre program and have worked regionally at venues such as The Goodman Theatre, Barrington Stage Co., Theaterworks Hartford, Hope Summer Repertory Theatre, Berkshire Theatre Group, The Theater Barn, & Ghostlit Rep Theatre Co. I’m also a proud ISF scholar, working actively to increase Arab American/Muslim representation in media in order to improve public opinion and policy. The only thing I love more than what I do is peanut butter…I really love peanut butter.

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#TinyThreads: An Insignificant Series

Some nights I talk in my sleep.

If I’m jolted awake, I’ll write it down before I forget it.

Last night I remember saying, “When I die, put me in a box marked ‘Precious Cargo’.”

Always on-brand.

#TinyThreads

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Worm Mooning

Wary and suspect, I’m still unaccustomed to celebrating a full moon and attempting to harness its powers rather than cower from it and hide away until it’s passed. The most recent full moon – the Worm Moon, also known as the Lenten Moon – appeared last week, and came with its usual bit of tumult. Is there really an uptick in crazy-ass behavior during a full moon? In my experience, decidedly yes. But I can’t tell if the full moon came first, or whether in my mind I simply have it programmed that such events will occur when the moon is full, and therefore subconsciously manifest the madness into happening. 

Regardless of which it is, during a full moon I tend to be a little more careful, a little more mindful, and a little more accepting of the pratfalls that often accompany the lunar phenomenon. It’s an opportunity to practice one’s acceptance of imperfection, embracing the shit that a wayward day will throw in our way. 

 

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Dazzler of the Day: Eva Noblezada

Joining her co-star in ‘The Great Gatsby’ on Broadway, Eva Noblezada earns her first Dazzler of the Day thanks to her latest turn in the new musical. As Daisy Buchanan, Noblezada has the formidable task of channeling the fractured facets of this inward-centered jewel, which has sometimes been one of the more dangerous and difficult traps of the Gatsby story. Daisy can be seen in so many ways, on so many levels, and the greatest portrayals leave room for interpretation, leaving the viewer wondering what her main motivation might be. After her lauded performances in ‘Hadestown’, ‘Miss Saigon’, and ‘Les Miserables’, along with a pair of Tony nominations,  Noblezada is getting praise for her take on the complex character around which all of Gatsby revolves. I cannot wait to see her next month. 

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Cake Pop

Tuesdays with a good chance of rain call for something uplifting and simple.

Like this cake pop. 

Cake makes many of us supremely happy.

I’ve never actually had a cake pop (to my recollection) but my pal Betsy brought this one in to work for me and I had it for breakfast last week. That was on a Tuesday too.

Tuesdays call for cake pops. 

And easy blog posts. 

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Dazzler of the Day: Jeremy Jordan

There’s nothing foolish about this post, as Jeremy Jordan is one of the powerhouse Broadway performers on stage today, and here he earns his crowning as Dazzler of the Day thanks to a career of powerful performances. Many remember him from his star-making turn in ‘Newsies’; my first in-person wonder at his talent came when he originated the main role in ‘Finding Neverland’ at the musical’s Boston try-out (a show that would have possibly fared much better had they not put in a certain someone else for the Broadway shift, but I digress…) Jordan has also been on the big screen in ‘The Last Five Years’, and numerous other theatrical productions such as ‘Rock of Ages’, ‘West Side Story’ and ‘Bonnie & Clyde’. His live performances are the stuff of legend (seek out footage of his key change in Celine Dion’s ‘It’s All Coming Back to Me Now‘ at one gig and marvel at the rightful audacity he has to pull it off and then some). Currently he is starring in ‘The Great Gatsby’ with Eva Noblezada, which my Mom and I will see next month on our Broadway return. If anyone can capture the enigmatic allure of that fantastic fictional creation by setting it to soaring voice, it’s Jeremy Jordan. See more on his official website here. 

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A Full-Frontal Recap

Last week’s recap was all about being powerless, this week is all about pumping out at full power. It’s Full-Frontal Monday, as we recap the previous week in this April 1st post. While spring is officially here, it barely feels like it, and we’re set for more nasty weather in the next few days, so hunker down and revisit all that has come before…

It began with beautiful ice and danger.

Observation of the century: every poo-poo time is a pee-pee time, but not every pee-pee time is a poo-poo time.

When friends write a blog post.

Castles aren’t fun to live in.

Three days of powerless bliss.

In the harmonies of Wilson Phillips, “You won’t see me cry.”

A Good Friday in a baseball cap.

Sneezing while peeing.

Eliminating the fuzz and the buzz.

The Ilagan twins turn 14 years old.

Mindfulness matters.

Turning my traumatic Easter narrative on its head: he sits on my lap now.

The silly stuff of a child’s Easter.

The porcelain trappings of youth.

Dazzlers of the Day included Amelia Dimoldenberg, Theo James, Son Heung-Min, Scott Nevins, and Jared McCain.

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The Porcelain Trappings of Youth

Lamenting the advance of age, lately I’ve been ruminating on how music and songs and most forms of entertainment fail to elicit the same thrills they did in my younger years. Most of my friends in this same age bracket have voiced similar concerns and realizations, bogged down as we are by the typical traipsing through our middle-aged years with stultifying routine and unsurprising regularity. It does make Jack a dull, dull boy indeed.

Every once in a while, however, a song still comes along to spark some of that long-lost sparkle, to thrill in the way that music and art and friendship and love once thrilled. A combination of lyrical majesty, musical enchantment, and vocal talent, ‘Mr. Porcelain’ was written by Jude York and is a lovely little song for those just embarking on the romance of life, and for those of us who have been through it a bit, and can look back and sigh with wistful longing and sweet relief. 

Not self-deprecatingI hold my head high most of the timeLike the candle I lightest of breezesHe changes the seasonsIs it gettin’ hot in here?
Oh, he’s so attractive, could never be himI think he might break if my hand touched his skinI’ve never been so close to such pretty thingsAnd it hurts to be only of earth

Mr. Porcelain dollMr. Instagram scrollMr., flatter me enough just to keep me on my toesDoes it ever get lonely up there on the wall?To be looked at, but never to holdMr. Porcelain doll
I could neverOh, I could neverOh, I could neverHe wasn’t made to hold
I could neverI could neverI could never
Remembering one’s youth can be dangerously tricky, as it so often comes along with dreams and wishes of recapturing one’s youth, or revisiting spaces and scenarios in order to do them right. That is territory I don’t like to tread. When I see people I know and love wading into those treacherous waters and flailing about in despondent despair, as if held down by a spell, drowning in their own fears of growing old and desperately attempting to hang onto youth in whatever warped way they can, I’m reminded that maybe I should be in my own state of panic. For me, though, that panic takes the form of apathy, and the inability to muster the same passion I once did for songs and melodies and movies and theater. When I mourn the passing of youth, that is the loss I mourn most – more than any physical attributes and ease, more than fitting into a 29-inch pair of jeans, more than staying out all night and not looking any worse for wear the next morning. 
He can’t be mine to hold on for a minute
Did he mean to say that?Mistook me for an ex that he meant to text backMy heart’s beating out my chestI think he said
You’re so attractive, where do I begin?I think you might break if my hand touched your skinI’ve never been so close to such pretty thingsAnd it hurts that you’re so down to earth
Mr. Porcelain dollMr. 20 years oldMr. Flatter-me-enough as if I didn’t knowDoes it ever get lonely, a rose on the wall?To be looked at but never to holdMr. Porcelain doll
I could neverOh, I could neverOh, I could neverHe wasn’t made to hold
I could neverI could neverI could neverHe can’t be mine to hold
At such times, it’s also useful to note that one’s youth is filled with folly and foolishness, and I’m grateful to have always understood this, to be as bothered by all that I didn’t know and understand, which in turn led me to desire something deeper, something more than being young could ever deliver. From my very first memories as a child, all I ever wanted was to be older. Wishes, like beauty and youth, don’t always bring us what we really want. 
He’s so beautifully perfect on everyone’s phoneTo be looked at knowing he’ll never callMr. Porcelain doll
I could neverI could neverI could neverHe wasn’t made to hold
I could neverI could neverI could never (I could never)

When I pass by a porcelain doll today, all those pretty young things just starting out on their own journeys, making a mess, a muck, and a magnificence of their own youth, I don’t envy them. Envy was never a good look on anyone, least of all me, and happily I have largely been able to avoid it. Perhaps it would have been different if I hadn’t been fortunate enough to enjoy few porcelain years of my own. And perhaps I’d mourn them if I enjoyed them more.

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